RPlog:Mayhem Aboard OS Paladin
Main Hangar Bay, OS Paladin The landing bay, which you are currently in, is very large and equally clean. With black reflective decking and slate-grey walls that contain built in panel lighting, the bay is well lit. Near the ceiling, horizontal scaffolding bridges across the bay from one wall to another for maintenance purposes of accessing the tops of ships parked in the bay. The entire fore wall is open and exposed to the darkness spectacle of space. A force field keeps the vacuum of space out and the atmosphere of the station in, while still allowing ships to go in and out without disturbing this balance. To the aft is a nexus of turbolifts of various sizes, which lead to all of the decks of the station. Near the aft wall over the turbolift area is a catwalk that leads from one side of the bay to the other. Various people move along this catwalk, which provides access to the landing bay control center and the local security detachment for this section of the station. One cannot stress how large this bay is. Easily large enough to accommodate several small capital scale vessels. Various ships rest around the bay, some X-Wings, A-Wings, Y-Wings and B-Wings are organized into units in separate areas. The bay is also littered with shuttles, freighters, and transports of all types. Various mechanics and technicians move about the bay busily, doing the regular sort of maintenance work on the various ships in the bay. Off to the starboard side of bay are several airlock systems that enable the station to dock with the larger of the fleet's capital ships that are unable to land. The Winter Fete season is now passed. The pulse of life aboard OS Paladin and the other New Republic Military Ships in the Mon Calamari system has returned to its usual vibrant tempo. In the Main Hangar Bay of OS Paladin, a rather large, black metal cargo container (about three meters by six meters by eight meters) sits off to one side, not too far from the wall that marks the inner skin of the space station's hull. A squad of well-armed Marines stands near the great crate, preventing anyone or anything that isn't authorized from getting too close. Among those who *are* authorized are a set of technical-looking types who, with furrowed brows, huddle over some scanning equipment, apparently trying different sorts of settings in an evidently vain attempt to discern what might be in side the big black box. Standing next to these men is one Kesander Beysarus, his data pad in hand. "Um, ok," says the Corellian with a sort of confused frown. "You're telling me that there's nothing you've got here that's gonna tell me what's inside that thing?" The brown-haired man who appears to be in charge of the scanning party simply nods. Tal'sin Secura stands by the large black cargo container, doing his best to look like he wants nothing more than to be guarding it. He wears slightly different dress than the rest of the marines, an AA-8 Shotgun sitting in his hands, very much at the ready despite how it may look from the passerby. His lekku stretch and flex down his back as he stands with his squad - nine other marines under his command and Tal'sin himself under the command of 1st Lieutenant Vengan Draelis. Taking a sigh, he watches the exchange between Beysarus and the scanning party. Vengan adjusts the collar of his black combat armor, his AA-8 shotgun strapped across his chest. The rest of the control group is armed with 36-Ts, lightly armed for security measures. The Marines look, for lack of a word, bored- it's not as if there's going to be a sudden surge of civilians running towards the box. Vengan himself sits on a few empty durasteel crates, feet propped up comfortably. "Tal'sin, -relax-," the Lieutenant says, stretching in place. "You look like someone's stuck a broomstick up your fourth point of contact." Kyrin gives the Marines a slight smile of amusement, particularly at Vengan's comment, as she makes her way to her XO's side. "Still nothing?" she asks of the Corellian, her wings held to her back easily, her tail lazily flicking back and forth as she glances toward the crate for a few seconds as if it might reveal its cargo just by her looking at it. Didn't happen. "Have you slept since that mission?" she asks rather kindly. "Nope, this sucker's really heavily shielded," replies Kesander to Phoenix with a wry grin. "As for sleep, I think I've six or seven hours at most," he says with a half-yawn. "I think we're just going to have to figure out a way to get it open. Might not be easy, though. I've never seen a lock like the one on the main hatch." The green Twi'lek smirks at Vengan's comment. "Apologies, Sir, but I'm ruttin' bored with this crate. It's not shootin' at me, and all I want is to stick my /boom/stick up someone's fourth point of contact. Any idea when we're gonna be seein' real action?" Sighing in a fashion that perfectly summarizes his boredom, he moves to lean his side against the crates his commander is sitting on. "Honestly... I didn't come back to the military so's I could watch a big black box." Turning to the two senior pilots speaking to each other, Tal'sin waves a hand and makes a suggestion. "Have yeh thought about using Plasticene Thermite? I've seen it work wonders on the stubbornly un-openable." Vengan grins slowly, chuckling. "Damn, Secura, take a knee," he laughs, patting the air. "Look, at least it's -not- shooting back. Take it from me, once you take a blaster bolt in the chest, you take a really dim view of being shot at." The Marine lounges back in his seat, tapping the trigger guard of his shotgun. "Thermite's not a bad idea, though," he agrees, eyebrows hiking approvingly of the idea. "I do not think anyone authorized the use of explosives," remarks a blue-skinned pilot conversationally to the Marines, although her tone is still amused. "Although I will look in the other direction if I see anyone planting any on the container." To Kesander, she queries, "I take it you have summoned the senior technical team?" "Not yet, I've got some folks on stand-by. I thought I'd give these guys a chance to really run through their full play-book," replies Kesander to Kyrin. "But maybe we might keep the thermite option in our back-pocket," suggests the pilot with a grin. "But shall I get the senior tech team in here?" Sandman looks at Phoenix questioningly as he picks up his comlink. Ignoring, for the moment, Vengan's comments on getting shot in the chest, Tal'sin nods further affirmation to the idea of using plasticene. He can talk to Vengan later about his roll in the throne room at Coruscant, or his history on Ryloth. At the word "explosives," the Twi'lek shakes his head. "That's the beauty of thermite, though. It doesn't explode. It just burns through real hot." Vengan rolls his eyes expressively, heaving to his feet and slinging his rifle across his chest. "One of these days, Sergeant, they'll learn to listen to the experts on blowing things apart," Vengan tells Tal'sin. He fishes in his buttpack for a moment, producing a fist-sized brick of white clay. Nimble, plasteel clad fingers extract a finger-sized snake-like roll of the gunk. Vengan moves next to the techies, looking the crate over, then insinuates himself into their analysis. "'scuse me, gents," the Marine says. He reaches forward to put the thermite against the lock but stays his hand, hearing the dreaded words 'senior technicians' from across the room. He quickly hides the stick of thermite, winking subtly at Tal'sin before leaning a broad pauldron against the side of the unopened crate and waiting patiently. Kyrin seems quite horribly amused by the Marine reaction to her words. She's quite well aware of what thermite is and that it doesn't explode. Her grey eyes twinkle with the force of that amusement. She apparently loooooves yanking some chains by playing dumb, and there's an undeniable grin at Vengan's abortive attempt to thermite the crate. With a sort of shrug, Kesander hits his comlink. "Second Deck Officer Ohao, this is Lieutenant Beysarus, could you and your team come on over to where we've got the contraband container? I think we're going to need your expertise on this one." Looking over at Kyrin, the pilot of Ghost 7 simply says, "They're on their way." "Yeah.. one of these days," Tal'sin responds to the Lieutenant. As he watches his commanding officer move toward the crate with the cube of thermite, Tal'sin acts as if he sees nothing and reaches into his own pack, reaching for the electronic detonator that goes hand-in-hand with the grey cube. He pauses as Vengan pauses, however, and lets the small device drop back into the bottom of his pack. Bringing his hand back to the butt of his shotgun, he moves back to his former position, waiting as the higher-ups to call on their precious technicians. Vengan grins broadly, winking also at Kyrin and her broad, amused smile. He remains leaning against the side of the access panel, looking the lock over curiously. Of course, it doesn't mean anything to him- it's just a lock. He examines the latch- the weak part- more critically, however. He nods twice at Tal'sin, then walks away, moving back to his seat and dropping atop it with the clatter of plasteel armor on durasteel. "Yeah, I could have that open in about thirty seconds. But what do we know, right Sergeant?" he asks the Twi'lek with a grin. Kyrin basically pretends she didn't see the Marines twitching with their thermite, standing there with infinite patience as she awaits the arrival of the technicians. "The question is not the timing," the Chyleni observes to Vengan. "But rather, ensuring the safety of everyone, us and anything living that might be inside." "Yeah, I mean whoever arranged for this thing definitely had something special in mind," suggests Kesander to Kyrin, Vengan, and Tal'sin. "Heavily shielded, pressurized to stand up to space vacuum, complex lock on it. Very well could be sentients inside; special prisoners, or maybe high-value slaves." "Nothin' but guns and ammo, I'm sure." The green Twi'lek leans with his back against the cargo boxes, giving him a good view of the crate and the people milling around it. Turning his head to Kesander, he shrugs. "Could be, but I think we'd only need to worry about hurting anyone if it's filled to the brim. The thermite just melts through the other side, not much else." Several beings wearing FleetOps uniforms arrive from the Reprisal and start walking toward the group around the cargo container. Leading them is a Bith whose walk could more accurately be described as a waddle. As Ohao's tech team reaches the container, he steps forward and flips up the visor covering his eyes. His large black eyes reflect the lock as well as the explosives as he closely studies them. Turning back, he says, "Someone certainly did not want this opened prematurely. Has a scanning crew given any indication as to its contents?" Vengan shrugs again, a bit carelessly. "Whatever you want," he suggests. "I'm not real keen to blow threw my Thermite if I can, but hey- supporting victory, right?" he asks, playfully quoting the Fleet Operations motto as Ohao approaches. The LT racks his shotgun open, catching the round expertly as it flies aside and inspecting the interior of the weapon for any debris or damage. STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Ghost 3 arrives with a woosh and slowly settles down on the landing area. Raxis disengages the controls as his X-Wing's landing stuts emit a hiss of hydraulic noise. With a twitter, the white-and-green Astromech unit, R3-V10 twitters happily at the sight of a few other members of Ghost Squadron. With a whirr, the cockpit of the X-wing raises to reveal none other than Raxis L'ygr. Waving to a technician on the side, Raxis places his helmet on the console and sets his exit ladder into place and climbs down with a datapad secured in a hardshell black casing. He takes a moment to run a hand through his hair, pulling it back to clear the helmet-matted hair, he makes his way towards Kesander. Raxis says, "Sir, word coded from command, it was requested that a Ghost deliver it to you personally..." He says, stopping to salute." "Scanners won't penetrate it," replies Kesander first to 2DO Ohao. "They've run the whole set of options on it. Nothing." As 2FO L'ygr approaches, the Corellian returns the salute and accepts the data pad from him. Tapping in his access code, Sandman looks at the report and blinks. "Well that's interesting. But there's no way to know if this involves our piece of lost property here, does it." This said, the Pilot passes the data pad to Kyrin. "Have a look," he suggests respectfully. Kyrin arches a silver brow as she reads the datapad. "Next time, L'ygr," the winged lady states calmly, "such a report goes to the /senior/ officer in question. Protocol." And she leaves the public dressing down at that, her wings shifting position on her back slightly. "I agree, Sandman. There is no way to determine if it has any bearing. It is best to keep all options open. Without using thermite," she adds, glancing at the two nearest Marines. Tal'sin smirks at Vengan and rolls his eyes at the maneuver with the shotgun. When the technician team arrives, Tal'sin steps aside, letting them through, wondering what they'll suggest to open the container. His eyes flicker up as Ghost 3 lands, paying the pilot little mind as he speaks to Kesander. Yawning, he eyes the black cargo container, slightly curious as to what lays inside. Ohao turns his attention back to the container's lock. Fishing in one of his pockets, he removes a small electronic device that he holds up to the lock. A series of lights start flashing on the device accompanied by quiet beeps. He motions for one of the techs to come forward and says, "Gripen, please bring a number four kit and a carbon-icer. I think we can get through this without too much trouble." Vengan grabs a lightweight hydrospanner, almost hurling it at Raxis as the man salutes but staying his hand. "DON'T SALUTE ON THE EFFING FLIGHT DECK!" he bellows, using a Marine command voice. Marines take an opposite tact- make a screwup as public as possible. He tosses the hydrospanner back into the crate, leaning back in his seat. He smirks at Kyrin, looking back at Tal'sin. "See, if they'd just listened to us, we could have had this open ten minutes ago," he points out in a loud voice. Raxis blinks and adjusts his jaw at the reprimand from both his commanding officer and Vengan, remembering well the first days of boot camp: Stand firm, look forward, and reply. "Yes sir." He replies sharply with his hands at his sides, standing behind, having winced slightly at the notion of having a hydrospanner thrown at him. Remaining in correct posture, he stands behind them until dismissed or given further orders in silence, allowing them to conduct their business. "Lieutenant," says the Corellian to Vengan, his tone very dry and business-like. "We're in a karking hangar, not a star destroyer flight deck. I don't think we need to flog the good 2FO for a bit of military courtesy. Unless you're convinced we've got snipers in here somewhere," adds Kesander with stiff sort of grin. Turning his gaze towards Kyrin, the pilot of Ghost-7 says in a lowered, if deferrential tone. "I asked him to bring me any reports that seemed relevant to this crate. My responsibility, Captain." "Carry on, Lieutenant," Kyrin states to Kesander, nodding briefly to Raxis before advancing upon Vengan. "Lieutenant Draelis," she begins, her tone quite formal and extremely dangerous. "When I want your help in handling my subordinates, I will ask you." She doesn't seem to care about hte height discrepancy... Vengan's taller than even her wings are, and could probably break her with one hand. But she didn't go through what she's gone through to sit by and let this incident pass. "But as you are neither A: in my chain of command, nor B: qualified to be giving orders to one of MY PILOTS, then I suggest you SHUT YOUR FESTERING GOB, MARINE and do you own job." And then she smiles rather tightly. "Or I will follow the proper chain of command myself and speak to /your/ CO about your inability to contain yourself. You have no business giving orders to personnel not placed under your command, and that includes anyone in Ghost Squadron. Have I made myself clear?" The fire in her eyes is something no one except Korynn Fleming's ever seen from her before, the sort of defiance that kept her alive in Imperial custody. Almost laughing out loud at Vengan, Tal'sin bites his bottom lip as he watches Ohao investigate the lock. He frowns at the mention of the carbon-icer, probably a much safer way to dispense of the lock. His eyes furrow and he leans toward Vengan to whisper, "..They don't give us carbon-ic-." His words are cut off as Kesander speaks to Vengan. When Kyrin begins her tyrade, the Twi'lek just stands by, waiting for her to finish. When it's all said and done, Tal'sin grins sheepishly and raises a hand. "I'm a sniper! And a darn good shot if I don't say so myself.." Leaving that to be enough said, he winks at Kyrin and looks back to Ohao, curious as to how he goes about his business. Leaning close to the locking mechanism and carefully studying it despite all the yelling going on behind his back, Ohao says to nobody in particular, "This is set to detonate in response to an unauthorized attempted opening. However, it appears to be somewhat old. I believe we can delay the detonation, as well as diminish the explosive yield." He turns back to the assembled group and says, "Is there any objection to using their own explosives to open it and saving our own? There should be no damage, save perhaps a slight burn mark on the deck." Vengan looks down at Kyrin, brows contracting slightly as he himself is yelled at. "...Yes Ma'am," Vengan says in that cold, polite voice normally reserved for when someone's recieving a chewing-out. At Tal'sin's words, he turns his head sharply to the side. "Close it out, Sergeant," he mutters out the corner of his mouth. He turns back to Kyrin, looking at the Captain from a position of attention. "If there's nothing else, ma'am, I'll get back to my duties then, ma'am." He stands still otherwise, waiting for the verbal command to carry on and glaring a hole in the far wall of the hangar. "As long as we don't exceed any stress level ratings on the station's structure around here," muses Kesander speculatively to Kyrin, the Corellian now simply moving on after the verbal fireworks. "And we get all non-essential personnel well out of the way.... Maybe we could let the technicians give it a go?" Raxis shuffles the weight on his feet slightly, getting an inquisitive look on his face with a tilt of his head downwards and to the right, as if pondering something. Vengan turns away as soon as he's dismissed, looking annoyed yet. "All right, let's blow this puppy," the Lieutenant states, pulling out the wad of thermite. He applies it carefully to the side of the box, working it especially into the thick retention latches, and puts an electronic blaster cap into the wad. He moves towards Ohao, handing the Bith the detonator switch. "Whenever you're ready, Kyrin seems satisfied she got her point across, but shrugs her shoulders, the movement going up through her wings. "There is nothing that is impervious to entry," she states calmly as she looks at the crate. "Even simple logic would seem to indicate it would need to have a means of entry, for the smugglers would have needed such a thing." Not raised with the proper respect for authority that he assumes many others on the deck were, Tal'sin meerly smirks and shakes his head, continuing to watch Ohao work on the container. He bites his lips, pretending what he believes to be nothing more than a control game didn't just happen. In his mind, he agrees with Vengan. It's unsafe to be pointing out superior officers in the middle of even a semi-public hangar. Under his breath, so no one else can hear, he mutters, "Hope ya don't have to find out the hard way.." Standing silently, he offers no explosives. Since the goal of the group is no longer "timely fashion," he refuses to give up items that could be used in a much more important mission than a black box on the Paladin. They can use their own damn explosives... they aren't using 'em for anything else. Kesander shifts his eyes to the fidgeting 2FO. "L'ygr, did you have something you wanted to say about all this?" Asks the Corellian. Raxis fidgets slightly, raises his eyes to Kesander and Kyrin. "Well it might take a little time, but I studied repair as well in basic and we might be able to rewire a fighter's shield generator to 'bubble' around the box or the staff...but that might take some time. Vengan turns away as soon as he's dismissed, looking annoyed yet. "All right, let's blow this puppy," the Lieutenant states, pulling out the wad of thermite. He applies it carefully to the side of the box, working it especially into the thick retention latches, and puts an electronic blaster cap into the wad. He moves towards Ohao, handing the Bith the detonator switch. "Whenever you're ready, officer," he tells the Tech, before gesturing for his Marines to clear the immediate area of detonation. Running his long fingers over the smooth surface of the container, Ohao says, "That, I am afraid to say, would not suffice." Moving his attention to the hinges, he says, "The entire container, hinges and all, appear to made of a durasteel composite that is manufactured to withstand the core meltdown of a starship. Thermite might be able to breach the surface, but it would take far too much thermite to make that a feasible option." He addresses Kyrin as he says, "The smugglers no doubt knew the means to disable the lock. As we do not, the quickest and easiest way in is to weaken the explosives and detonate them." "That's a splendid suggestions, Second Flight Officer L'ygr, but I don't think we'll need it, not if the detonation is going to be as mild as our good Technician suggests," says Kesander to the young pilot. "But Captain Sh'vani has the final word on this." Looking towards his superior officer, the Corellian asks. "Ma'am, if the thermite won't get it done, then why don't we let the technicians try their approach? Or we could do as our good 2FO suggests and try and make it happen inside a shield bubble. What's the call?" Kyrin remains silent for long minutes as she considers the options, her grey eyes shifting between the ever-ready Marines and the less flashy but no less impressive technicians and the wet behind the ears pilot under her command. "Doctor," she finally says softly. "Let us try a slightly more diplomatic approach for now. If that does not work, then we will allow the Marines to do what they do best aside from mouth off to or about those of higher rank. And should the Marines not carry the day, I think a certain little raptor from Ghost Squadron may surprise us yet." Vengan ignores the jibe from the pilot's side of the house, waiting with his squad on the other side of the crates. They speak quietly amongst themselves- no doubt some highly technical and involved discussion of Marine things, however occult they may be. They glance from the pilots to the box, back to their group discussion. Reaching down to the toolkit on the deck at his feet, Ohao removes a pair of electronic tools. He leans forward, his eyes mere centimeters from the lock, and says to the tech next to him, "On my mark, give me a two second blast with the carbon-icer, please." He manipulates the tools so slightly that only the best eyesight could detect the movement and says, "Now." Following the the two second blast, he makes one last adjustment before turning and quickly heading around the corner of the container to shield himself from the explosion. He manages to duck and throw his hands over his big head as the lock's protective explosives go off. As predicted, the yield is far below what it should have been. It is less than a typical concussion grenade, but a small amount of shrapnel is sent flying from the lock mechanism. After the sound of the explosion dies down, the container sits unlocked, waiting to be opened. Raxis lowers his arm from covering his face as the container is tampered with, again the thoughtful look returns. "Raptor?" He says to himself, thinking of all of the various equipment that's come to his knowledge since joining the Squadron...and then it hits him, as if his face animates as if he were saying "oh...OH!" He can't help but grin at being callsigned, and resumes his posture. The explosion seems to have done more than simply break the lock and the seal on the crate. In the aftermath of the detonation, a certain amount of a whitish gas escapes from around the seams of the now-breached hatchway. And from inside the container there is a loud "Booom!" This is the sound of something large hitting a wall or a ceiling inside the crate. Another Booom!" and the hatchway of the container is literally tossed open as though it were made of flimsi, its heavy hinges wrenching in the process. What next climbs out is difficult to describe, but the words horror and terror would be a good place to start. Gray, leather, heavily sinewed arms carrying four-fingered hands with wicked-looking claws reach out to grasp the sides of the hatchway. The thing that then launches itself out into the bay is vaguely reptilian-looking, save for the demonic, humanoid-looking head with its glowing red eyes and large black horns. It looks as though it's shaking off sleep, and it is both angry and hungry, slaver dripping from its tooth filled-maw. With little ado, the beast lunges towards anything that looks edible. Grabbing a hapless civilian who had stopped near by to gawk, it bites into the man, ripping out a huge chunk of flesh and spraying blood in a wide arc roundabout. It then continues moving, perhaps looking for something else to chew on. The gray, horned beast, seemingly from the infernal regions, is not the only thing to emerge from the container. Leaping out, one after the other, two sort of large, cat-like creatures appear, one mostly gray, one mostly yellow-colored. Six-eyed, and toothy-mawed with wicked looking spikes along their spines the two predators seem to sniff the air a bit, as if scenting blood. However, these animals also appear wary, for as they catch sight of humanoids bearing weapons, they move.... and fast; leaping, bounding, cutting left and right at random, almost as if they're trying to find a route of escape. For a split second, all Kesander can do is stare. However, even before he wills it, the Corellian's right hand is reaching for his heavy blaster. As the horned beast claims another victim, he raises his DY-255, squeezing off an aimed round that strikes the horned horror across its back, leaving a large visible wound that drips black ichor. Once hungry and angry, the beast is now enraged - and it turns its steps towards the pilot of Ghost 7 and begins to move quickly in his direction, jaw snapping viciously. Kyrin is a bird-like creature. Although such a statement is enough to cause holy war on her home world, there is a cat-like creature there. Two, in fact. And they're pissed. Instead of shooting, however, she leaps for the nearest alarm button. Big, bright, red, and hopefully something that will put the whole bloody station on alert. Her wings are swift in their strokes as she hunts for... the button. And then alarms ring through the hangar bay, loud enough to wake the dead. Blast doors begin sealing things off. One hopes. "HOLY FARK!" Vengan brings his shotgun up to his shoulder even as he gapes, his Marines echoing the motion. As one, the ten-man squad explodes into a burst of shotgun and blaster fire, mostly aiming at the massive Doashim, though or or two stray blaster bolts are fired at the Nexu. "This is Lieutenant Draelis on emergency channel one! Lock down the main hangars, right now! Seal the deck! Scramble all Marine personnel to report to the Main Bay on the Paladin in full combat gear!" Vengan fires off two rounds at the Doashim, aiming at the creature's vulnerable eyes. His Marines automatically assume a defensive half-circle posture, shoulder to shoulder. Handling giants beasts on a killing rampage is quite a bit out of Ohao's area of expertise. From his spot at the side of the container, he sees the creatures exit. As they seem to all be moving away from the container, he presses himself up against it, wishing he had a sidearm. Maybe he could throw a hydrospanner, but that might not be too effective. Looking around for his tech team, he sees them scrambling in different directions. None of them were armed, either. Raxis blinking and freezing at the sight of the Doashim approaching Kesander, Raxis yanks his blaster out and fires a shot right at the massive creature's nose. With a whistle, he tries to get its attention and starts backing away towards the racks of equipment on the landing pad. "C'MERE YOU!" He yells, hoping its chasing predatory instincts bleed in. Blood. Red blood, black blood... seemingly everywhere. The viscous bodily fluids are sprayed and spread by enraged predators striking out and killing relatively vulnerable humanoids, some in uniform, some not. Indeed, blaster and shot-gun fire impacting the largest target available, the Doashim of Ryloth, also greatly adds to the bloody carnage. Small bits and pieces of the creature are blown off it, more often by the blaster fire than by the shot guns. One shot almost takes out one of its eyes giving the creature an ugly head wound. Another shot blows off part of one of its horns, somehow making the shattered appendage look even more lethal. However, the great beast continues it's sprint towards the pilot of Ghost 7, only managing to twist its great neck enough to duck Raptor's shot. Finding itself within striking distance of the Corellian, the great beast lunges. The two cat-like creatures, Nexu both, continue to dodge about, catching a few shot-gun pellets, but avoiding blaster fire, for the moment. Nevertheless, both creatures are apparently focused enough to rake with their claws at any humanoids that come within reach. For at least three personnel this results in decapitation or being wickedly ripped in half. Angling for a slowly closing blast door that is sealing off a maintenance passage, the two predators put on an extra burst of speed, slipping through it and escaping into the vast network of tubes, tunnels, and ducts that permeate the space station. Kyrin immediately adds the two escaping Nexu to her report into the intercom as she draws her blaster, leaps to the deck to scoop up a second fallen blaster, and leaps up once more, her wings finding enough space to get a good downsweep, flying back to the fracas and opening fire with both blasters at the Doashim lunging at her XO. The Corellian pilot manages to squeeze off one more aimed blaster round before the giant Doashim leaps at him. With such instinct as is available, Kesander desperately tries to dodge out of the way; regrettably with incomplete success. The great grey beast's closed hand slams into Kesander, knocking him off his feet and sending him flying a good eight meters to land heavily upon the deck plating, sliding an additional five meters or so. Vengan, fortunately more heavily armored, takes the more direct route. Grabbing his shotgun in both hands, he tear-asses out from cover, sprinting towards Raxis' position. Bodily, the Marine puts himself between the pilot and the massive monster, grinding to a halt on one knee and readying his shotgun. He strokes the trigger twice at point-blank range, aiming directly into the monster's face. "Come get some!" he roars in defiance, even as his Marines pepper the creature's side with blaster fire. Raxis howls out in defiance as Kesander is attacked and the grunt pushes him back. "NO!" He yells, as he sees another Ghost attack. In a bout of either insanity or heroism..usually the same...Raxis peels around Vengan and sprints towards Kesander, trying to place the Doashim between him and the Lieutenant. Raising his blaster, he begins to unload the pistol shot by shot. For all its enormous size and wickedly lethal strength, the Doashim cannot evade the torrent of firepower that is focused on it by the warriors of the New Republic. Kesander's last aimed shot hits the beast squarely in the chest, blowing a hole that leaves a smoking exit wound on its back. One of Kyrin's shots goes a hair wide, but the other strikes the creature's shoulder squarely, nearly severing one of its massive arms. Vengan's double volley strikes home with similarly lethal effect, blasting flesh and chunks of bone off of the creature's massive skull. And last of all, the point-blank shot by Raxis hits home where the Marine's assault already landed, blowing a hole clean through the creature's forehead. With a grinding, rattling roar that could only come from the depths of the abyss, the Doashim teeters, and then with one last bit of strength, swipes at Lieutenant Draelis before collapsing in a heap of rent flesh and shattered bone. From where he has come to rest on the hanger bay's deck plating, Kesander does not move at all. The Corellian does have the presence of mind to open his blue eyes and groan aloud, "Karking hell, I *REALLY* hurt." Kyrin glides to a landing near the technician nearest the crate. "Are you all right, Doctor?" she asks with concern to Ohao, visually inspecting the Bith for any injuries before peeking into the crate to see if there's anything still there, using a periscope because she's not a big dumb Marine to just look in directly. "It is empty," she declares before checking on her people, looking for Kesander and Raxis in the mess to ensure they still live. It's amazing how much power a dying beast can put into a blow, despite missing half of it's brain. The strike catches Vengan full across his armored chest, the sheer force of the blow sending him flying across the hangar. He slams into a stack of durasteel cargo boxes with a sickly sounding *crunch*, falling a good fifteen feet and landing on the ground with a sodden thump. The Marine lays unnervingly still, an arm bent back at an impossible angle and a thick crack running through the center of the theoretically nigh-unbreakable armor. Raxis rushes over to Kesander and stands above him, weapon still raised at the ready as he takes a moment to look over the Lieutenant and his wounds. Satisfied that the Lieutenant will live, he frantically glances around for the Nexu, should another find its way into the hangar. "Second Flight Officer L'ygr," rasps Kesander from his sprawled, prone position on the deck, "I could really use a doctor if you could go get one." The Corellian grins through slightly red-stained teeth. "A shot of whiskey wouldn't hurt right now either." Kyrin makes sure that Ohao is out of harm's way and then goes to see to some others nearby, the red and other bloody colors on the deck getting on her khakis as she holds someone's artery in place before the medics arrive through an opening blast door and take over. "I have no whiskey for you, Sandman, but you /will/ be all right," she says when she returns to Kesander and Raxis. "That is an order." Stepping aside, Raxis sees Vengan in the distance slumped over. Not feeling one bit safe inside of this space station, he avoids walking near the ducts as he hustles over to the wounded form of the soldier. "Vee-Ten we're going to need you on the double!. CAPTAIN!" He barks out, kneeling next to Vengan. "If you can hear me, answer me buddy hang in there. Captain this guy's hurt bad!" As Marine and StarOps personnel begin first to direct arriving medical teams towards the injured and then to assess the losses, alarms continue to sound across OS Paladin. Bulkhead doors and other seals begin to methodically drop into place, sectioning off the decks of the station. In the midst of this bloody chaotic mess, Kesander, his body wracked by pain indescribable, can only nod mutely to his Captain's order to remain alive.